I love old churches. I love the architecture, the history, the purpose. I've always loved stained glass and the colors coming alive as sunlight radiates through carefully pieced glass. From the outside most stained glass seems flat, dull, almost like a mistake. Once inside the sanctuary, it's a world of glowing artwork full of life and light. I think people are like this. Outwardly, they seem cold, plain, existing. Yet, if time were taken to see, be allowed inside, we could see the shattered pieces of glass actually making artwork of a life. It's only when the light is shining in that it makes sense.
The Light of the cross, that is.
Our Creator scooping up the shards of glass and delicately piecing a life together in hope. The glass makes no sense to the onlooker, but to the Creator, He sees the picture, the life. Loving fingers sliced from the task at hand, purifying burning fire, and steady time in faith, a new creation emerges. Different in appearance, yet, all the original bits in new place. A smile emerges, the sin that once gripped and strangled this little life, now is broken, crushed. Freedom. To shine. To radiate life. The Light of life. Though pieces once were, peace now reigns, alive.
Lord, create in me a new heart that will radiate your love to other shattered, hurting lives that they may hope in You.
